There is yet another contrast between the appearance of Clarissa Dalloway and the reality of Clarissa Dalloway — and it is one which Clarissa is well aware of. Clarissa realizes that her home, the Dalloway house, is a safe refuge. The house is fortress-like and sturdy, and as well-bred in its exterior appearance as Clarissa is; but, in their interiors, Mrs. Dalloway and the Dalloway house differ. Clarissa, inside, is a mass of doubts and fears. This is dramatic irony because Lucy, Clarissa's maid, worships her mistress and imagines Clarissa to be as regal and composed as she appears to be.
We see the truth of the matter when we enter Clarissa's mind. Already we have glimpsed into some of Clarissa's fears and worries; now we perceive that Clarissa is truly hurt by Lady Bruton's inviting Richard, and not Clarissa, to luncheon. Life is slipping away from Clarissa; she is frail, white-haired, and already, it would seem, is being neglected. Socially, Clarissa does not like to be snubbed by another society lady; as a female, she is jealous that Lady Bruton invited only Mr. Dalloway to her luncheon; and, deep down in her soul, Clarissa is stunned. Even though she does not greatly fear death, she is pained at being neglected so soon after she has been seriously ill; it is as though she were already forgotten.
We have seen that Mrs. Dalloway has secured for herself a safe, if somewhat sterile, existence. Our next matter is with Clarissa's truly "happy times." She remembers these isolated moments, fittingly, as she loosens and removes the trappings of the public Mrs. Dalloway. Up in her tower room, away from London and away from the lower rooms of the Dalloway house, Clarissa removes her hat and puts her coat away. She literally "lets her hair down." As she does so, memories of Sally Seton return. Sally was the first person Clarissa ever shared secrets and affection with. Clarissa was fascinated by Sally. Sally was everything Clarissa wasn't. Clarissa obeyed all the rules, Sally broke them. Sally sat on the floor, propped up her knees, and smoked. Once she ran naked out of the bathroom to fetch a sponge she forgot. Sally was a rebel who did the unexpected, the romantic: everything a well-bred, well-mannered young girl at the turn of the century did not do.
